


Seeing Red

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Dark Knight [12]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8956840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo's... not the best at controlling his anger.





	

The best part about Kylo, Poe thinks, is how passionately he feels about things. How any emotion starts at the ends of his hair and doesn’t stop until the room is shaking beneath him.

This is, however, unfortunately the _worst_ part about Kylo, too.

Like right now, when Poe is holding onto the blaster-scorch on his flank, and Kylo’s thrown _everyone_ (including him) to the corners of the hangar. His lover’s fury is his most dangerous weapon. Anyone can wield a lightsaber, even if Kylo can finesse with it more than most.

But few people can channel their very hatred and fear into something physical and deadly. The Jedi - and those close to them, Dark or not - were once revered for this very reason. Though at least with a Jedi, you had control.

Kylo does not.

Poe hears the sickening sounds of limbs breaking, and weapons crumpling. He knows no one can even _try_ to fight Kylo when he’s in full sway of ire, and instead… he has to plead with him to calm down.

“Kylo… you’ve got them. It’s okay.”  


“They _hurt you_.”  


“Yeah, but it’s a scratch.” It’s more than a scratch. He’s going to need Bacta dressings, and it’s going to hurt like a motherfucking bitch. But he’ll live.  


“They. _Hurt. You_.”  


“And I’m _okay_.” Or he will be, and that’s close enough.  


There’s no pressure holding him where he’d been flung. At least that much control is back, so Poe starts to walk as evenly as he can towards him, still gingerly guarding the blast site. 

Kylo’s shoulders are hunched, his whole demeanour one of threat and anger. Poe hobbles up, and holds a hand out without touching. Calming, as you would a beast about to charge. The analogy is a fitting one, because Kylo’s higher thought processes go out the window when he’s sufficiently upset.

He’ll never have that distant, war-far face that Luke has. He’s much too Leia, and too Han, to be like that. Poe touches his cheek, his neck. Grounds him, lets him see he’s upright.

“I…”  


“I know. But it’s okay. You stopped them now. Okay? Let the others arrest them. You come with me to the medical bay… just to patch me up enough. I don’t need much, but you know I feel better with you around.”  


Kylo deflates, little by little. The storm washes out of him, and he offers his shoulder to Poe’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. But it’s gonna be okay, babe. You got me, remember? You got me.”  



End file.
